Very Truly Yours, Simone

5. the punishment

As you said, I'm a very good brother. That one statement sealed the decision for Simone. Daniel Cavendish would never be interested in a girl that reminded him of his sisters. Perhaps she should treat him the same. He was not the only man out there. She was still young and would soon blossom to a lady. By then, she could meet more men like him. Even better men. Men who would see her as a lady.

Yes, that's what she should do, she thought as she lay in bed, flushed with fever. The bird was alive and had not left her room. Gale, too, she assumed, seeing him sleeping in a chair, his legs propped on her bed. "Gale," she called out, voice cracking. She nudged. "Gale."

His eyes opened. And as he realized she was awake, he dropped his leg and jumped on the bed to plant his hand on her forehead. "You're still burning," he sleepily said, reaching for the bell.

"I'm fine," she lied.

"No, you're not. You're so pale, Sisi."

She watched him roll his shirt up to his elbows, brow furrowed. She could not tell if he was angry or worried, but that's the thing about Gale. He could be annoying most of the time, but he was also the sweetest. That's why Simone and Lydia liked his company the most, although they may pretend to not to. "Where's Lydia? She said she'll sleep here," she asked.

"Out painting your portrait. She started crying and said you may not live long enough to see it."

She groaned and chuckled at the same time. "Make sure my brows are perfect. She usually gets them wrong."

Gale's shoulders shook as he wrung a cloth over the basin. "I shouldn't be laughing. She was quite inconsolable, you know." He placed the cold towel over her forehead, covering her brows. "You will do well without your brows," he said, playfully flicking her nose.

She weakly slapped his hand away. "I'm hungry."

"Good!" He jumped to his feet when a servant walked in. "Bring Sisi something to eat, please." When they were alone again, he went back to her side and whispered, "Harry's home."

Her eyes widened. "He knows I'm sick?"

"Yes."

"Does he know why?"

Gale winced. "I had to tell him."

Simone groaned. "Gale, you promised!"

"Everybody knows, Sisi. They've been bombarding me with questions for two days." He reached for her hand. "I'm sorry. I should have been home."

"That's fine."

"But you should have not gone out."

"And left the bird?"

His eyes went to the bird who had transferred to the windowsill. Then he sighed. "I tried to reason the bird, but you know Harry."

"He's not pleased?"

"Well, of course! You walked in the rain, in the middle of the night, with—" He leaned over and nearly hissed, "—our neighbor!"

She groaned, closing her eyes. "What are the chances I won't survive this fever?"

"Not fairly high, I'm afraid. You're hungry. It means you're likely to live and face his wrath."

"And what would be his wrath? Has he told you?" Many times in the past, they had seen many of Harry's wrath, as Lydia would call them. And it was always the four of them—Simone, Lydia, Price, and Gale. Price was just lucky he was not here. But then, if he was, this would not have happened. He always had the best plans.

And their offenses were always committed in Abberton. To do something reckless here in Coulway was different because Harry only had two golden rules: No stupidities in Coulway. No scandals.